


To Dine with the Devil

by justsimplymeagain



Category: Hannibal (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Dinner, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:41:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23619910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justsimplymeagain/pseuds/justsimplymeagain
Summary: There was a special guest tonight, one that Hannibal had the pleasure of wining and dining before –and Hannibal so loved his interesting guests. However, eventually, even he will learn that dinner with such a guest is never for free.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope I don't butcher the characters. It's been a while since I wrote for Supernatural.

There was a special guest tonight, one that Hannibal had the pleasure of wining and dining a few times before and once during his years as a surgeon. Hannibal was well aware that eating was something this particular guest didn’t do often if at all, so he made it a point to make it the best meal around. In fact, it was one of the things that the man commented on – he could taste the pride put into the meal and that made it alluring enough to eat. At first, Hannibal had thought that it was just an expression. But over the years, he’s come to learn that it was a matter of fact given who and what this man actually was.

_Hannibal stood in shock. It was as though his whole world tilted and rooms crumbled in his mind. It was enough to have him want to re-evaluate and just as equally forget._   
_“You are…” Hannibal wasn’t sure if he wanted to speak it out loud in fear that it would simply make it all the more real._   
_“A demon? Yes. Hello.” There was an amused taunt and a sly grin curling on features that Hannibal has been growing accustomed to._

To this day, Hannibal could still remember when he discovered what his guest was as if it were yesterday, it was a shock that had left him feeling bare and stuck between wanting to flee and wanting to lash out. A mood that passed soon enough – thankfully. In all honesty, Hannibal suspected that he wouldn’t have survived such a foolish decision and foolish was something Hannibal was not. He wouldn’t have gotten so far in life if he were foolish. Now that time has passed and he was near comfortable with the knowledge of the supernatural and the fact that his frequent guest was, in fact, a demon – his curiosity has taken over. Research has only brought him so far, and his guest never offers up information for free. He has learned that to find things out you have to negotiate or buy the information. And often it was a quid pro quo something that taught Hannibal how to be better and more efficient in getting what he wants.

Just as Hannibal was finishing his prep work his phone rang. With a subtle frown, he wiped his hands and checked who it was. Jack Crawford. A man who Hannibal did enjoy the company of, but not as much as he enjoyed using. Still, the man gave Hannibal something irreplaceable. He gave him Will, and from there, things just grew to interesting and new levels. Refreshing, to say the least. Hannibal could still smell Will’s scent in his bed, and if he were, to be honest – it left him with rather intimate dreams as of late.

With a sigh – he hoped he wouldn’t have to contact his guest and cancel at the last minute. It was something neither of them seemed fond of.

“Good evening Jack, what could I do for you?” Hannibal greeted politely, with a tone that gave the impression that he was ready to help even though he was not and did not in fact want to help. Thankfully, luck was on his side and it turned out to be a semi-pleasure call as Jack was wanting more information on contacts of people that he could take his ailing wife to. Hannibal was more than willing to hand over names and phone numbers to a point. A darker part of him was tempted to hand over the way to contact his soon to arrive guest – but he decided against it at the last moment because it could very well backfire on him.

From where he was standing, he could see the streetlight flicker and not even a moment later a knock came.

“My apologies, Jack. But a friend of mine has just arrived and I would hate to have him wait.” Hannibal had to be as polite as he could without rushing the FBI agent off the phone. An apology was accepted as the phone call ended. With a satisfied smile, he turned the phone completely off as he didn’t want to be bothered anymore tonight. With his phone taken care of for the night, he headed to the front door.

While wearing a welcoming expression Hannibal opened the door and found that it was exactly who he was expecting.

“Crowley.” Hannibal greeted. His guest – Crowley – was dressed as he always seemed to be. In darker tones, blacks, and dark greys. Hannibal remembered him wearing a dark navy once but even that was dark enough to pass for black at a first glance. Despite the repetitive preference in appearance, every inch was well-tailored and well cared for. Like Hannibal, Crowley took pride in his own appearance.

“Hannibal.” They have been on first-name basis for some time now. And as always, there was a taunting lilt to Crowley’s voice that has since become the norm. Hannibal stepped aside and let the man enter, taking his jacket as he did so. As Hannibal led his guest further into his house, explaining that dinner won’t be too long from now as the prep work was finished and for this particular dish the prep work was the longest part of the process. It was acceptable, as Crowley always did seem to enjoy watching Hannibal cook as they chatted over a glass of whatever wine that was to be served with the meal that day.

It will never stop being surreal for Hannibal to have a frequent guest who just happens to be a demon.

Hannibal poured two glasses of expensive red wine, despite the fact that he knew that Crowley seemed to be more into expensive whiskeys and bourbons although he did seem to be fine with what Hannibal normally served with his meals. They could always switch later on depending on how late the demon opted to stay. It varied from time to time, sometimes business would cut the night short. While Crowley sat at the kitchen’s island Hannibal enquired how he was doing and the demon seemed happy enough to talk. However, it quickly became obvious that nothing personal was said.

It wasn’t entirely too odd, after all, Hannibal was accustomed to fishing for details and over the years he’s found out a few things about Crowley. Like why he sometimes prefers cheap whiskeys over the expensive – old sentiment from successful deals. Or how the demon preferred first editions and had a particular favorite tailor that he refused to give up who it was citing the reason that the last one had the unfortunate fate of being eaten. Needlessly said, it made Hannibal look at everyday products slightly different and he wondered just how much bad and yet successful things were the result of a deal. He asked once and only earned a grin as a response. It left Hannibal with the assumption that it was more than what he might expect. Or perhaps even less. In the end, it hardly mattered.

“Still assisting the FBI?” Crowley asked with an air of polite curiosity, but Hannibal knew that in most ways the demon really didn’t care. This was just conversation mixed with a bit of detail fishing. Something they both did; it made their conversations more interesting at times. Hannibal still remembered Crowley’s reaction when he first found out that not only was Hannibal assisting the people trying to catch him (unknowingly on their part) but he was assisting him in catching other lesser killers. The demon thought it was funny like Hannibal just told him the funniest joke and the laughter that filled the kitchen was near if not completely genuine.

“Yes, however, I have taken a closer position to assist the man that Jack is trying to groom into someone to catch the Chesapeake Ripper.” Hannibal answered, he wasn’t entirely willing to give too much information about Will away but he will give some. It would be vaguely interesting to see how that goes. For the most part, he figures Crowley wouldn’t care too much. He won’t give away how anti-climatic Will’s discovery of who Hannibal and what he could do actually was and especially won’t give away how relieved he actually was.

_“You know.” Hannibal almost wanted to drop his fork and pick up his knife should he need it. They were having dinner at Will’s for once – fish. And Hannibal had to admit that it was delicious and something not as fancy as he would prefer normally but it was domestic almost._   
_“Yes.” Will answer was straight to the point as he sat there across from Hannibal. And above all else, relaxed and confident in where he was and what he said. It was a good look on the man. The answer on why he didn’t turn Hannibal over or panic was simple - he was kind to Will. Patient with him and made him feel like he wasn’t wrong or a specimen to write the next book on. Such a simple reason. Simple and sincere._

And that was that nothing more was made of it and life carried on and dare Hannibal to say – but more improved than it was before. Hannibal was no longer alone, a feeling he didn’t expect to have and hasn’t acknowledged pre-Will. But now that he was aware and aware of its absence – he was grateful and was not about to give a demon that insight no matter how much he might appreciate Crowley’s company.

Crowley nodded before moving with the conversation with a calm, “I do believe I read about that in the online blogs. Ms. Lounds’ blog specifically.” It made Hannibal wonder why Crowley seemed to gravitate to her blog over others. Perhaps it was the flare in her writing – at times overdramatic, but simple to read. Nothing Hannibal would condone in his own writing if he were, to be honest, but she was entertaining and her cover of his own murders was flattering at best. She came out of nowhere about five years ago and became a rising star in journalism. Although not without conflict.

The conversation carried on from there, mostly about Hannibal’s experiences while working with the FBI now that he seemed to be more involved than previously thanks to his assistance to Will. The only pause in their conversation was to set up and serve dinner. Crowley ate with manners and Hannibal wondered if he could even taste the food itself or if the demon was simply going through the motions. The last time Hannibal asked, he only received a smile and an assurance that the food was fine. Regardless, Hannibal introduced their meal and what was involved in making it. He took a tremendous amount of pride in his cooking.

Halfway through the meal, the conversation took a turning point from focusing on Hannibal to focusing on Crowley. It took some skill to shift it, but Hannibal can pull it off now. Either that or Crowley was not fully in the conversation enough to control its direction from his end. Not that Hannibal is complaining. From past conversations, he’s learned that Crowley was a crossroad demon – hence why he considered giving Jack Crowley’s contact information – and that this demon was on the top of the pecking order in that regard. The King of the Crossroads.

Hannibal will freely admit that he was more interested in the demon aspect of the supernatural than others. And faintly, he wondered if there were angels – if only for one person’s sake. Steering the conversation slightly he left an opening for himself to ask, “How does one become one type of demon over another?”

For a moment, Hannibal thought that Crowley wouldn’t answer. But he did, with a calm “Skillset mostly, you either have a knack for one thing or another. And you get molded furthermore to fit that type.” Hannibal was left wondering what that answer was going to cost him. This whole night seemed almost too easy and it hit Hannibal. This was Crowley paying a decent chunk of information because what he might ask for in return might cost a lot more than tidbits of information.

Hannibal wanted to push to see just how much information the demon was going to let go of.

Not that he got a chance, a knock on the door disrupted his chances. He was glad that they were mostly finished with their meal at the very least. Excusing himself with an apology, he answered the door. It was Jack.

There was a pretty bad murder and Will would need help getting through this one. Had Will’s name been left unmentioned, Hannibal would have declined instantly.

“I thought you had company?” Jack questioned, looking at Hannibal’s driveway.

“I took a taxi.” Crowley answered before Hannibal had the chance. Hannibal wanted to frown but set that aside to politely introduce the two. Jack commented on how Crowley felt pretty warm only for the demon to joke saying, “I always run hot, my mother always said I was a living furnace.” It made Hannibal wonder if Crowley even remembered his mother. Hannibal informed Jack he would be out in a minute, Jack took the cue and got back in his own vehicle. Crowley already had his coat.

Crowley seemed to use this as his exit, thanking Hannibal and saying his farewell. Half-heartedly waving his farewell to Jack as he walked to the end of the driveway already on his phone if Hannibal had heard correctly, he was not calling a taxi if the pet name was any indication as Hannibal climbed into the passenger seat. In the rear-view, he could see a black vehicle pick the demon up.


	2. Chapter 2

Crowley could easily say that he’s been a demon for quite some time now, and unlike some, he actually remembers how long he’s been a demon – right down to the hour. Crowley could even tell you who he used to be and what he used to do for a living. 

He was born as Fergus Roderick McLeod in 1661 Scotland. Fergus was a tailor who sold his soul for an extra three inches below the waist, in old Fergus's defense he was a bit drunk, or else he would have asked for something more to go along with that. Ten years after that he was torn apart by a Hellhound. They were mangy mutts compared to his beauties. 

But Crowley doesn’t care about who he used to be back when he was human. Simply because it was the past and the past should stay there. 

And above that – he liked who he was now. 

It wasn’t too long in his career as a demon was his real talent discovered. He was an excellent salesman so naturally, he became a crossroad demon with all the perks that came with it. He only advanced in the ranks from there through human wars and well-placed deals and a renowned reputation for getting the job done. 

It would be a long list if he were to tell you which world leaders belonged to him throughout history since the 1700s on. It would be a long list to include everyone. Business owners who keep needing to be bailed out – his. Lazy inventors – his as well. Famous musicians who can’t keep a rhythm and rich singers who can’t sing a nice note – his. Needlessly said he was very good at his job. He took pride in it. 

And because of that – he became the King of the Crossroads, and from here he really got to work. Playing the game but in his own favor. 

It led to him making successful alliances that led him to the opportunity to be the new devil in town. 

The King of Hell. 

Now just because he was in such a high position; it does not mean he could relax because now he had targets on his back from demons who’s dreams of grandeur lead them to make foolish moves against Crowley and not to mention he did enjoy his job of being a crossroad demon so he made sure to hold all the best contracts still. He was a very busy demon. But busy or not, he made sure to make time for downtime and for a selected few worth his time either for personal gain or companionship. 

He was after all a very hedonistic demon. More so than past leaders. 

And unlike them, Crowley wasn’t above picking and choosing humans to associate with – but they had to follow a specific criterion given his own fussy nature. One human he did regularly spend some time with was a psychiatrist who happened to be a serial killer with a penchant for cannibalism. Of course, it wasn’t because of this that he lingered in the human’s life. No, it was because of how he loved to play mind games with others and twist people to in part to see what happens and in part for his own gain. It made for some interesting situations and in the big game of souls – some of those wind up belonging to him now. In a roundabout way. So, this human – Hannibal Lecter – was a personal gain that had the perks of decent company, and given his skillset, the good doctor could be useful in the future. 

But let it not be said that the human – Hannibal Lecter – would be safe from Crowley should that line need to be crossed. Crowley can and will slit his throat and snatch the soul right out of him if Crowley had anything to gain from it. Crowley won’t even lift a finger to save the human from human prosecution should he be caught – at least not without a deal first. 

Crowley did suspect that Hannibal would probably be more than aware of this truth and the doctor himself would no doubt do the same to Crowley if their roles were reversed. After all, Crowley was no Will Graham – and yes Crowley was aware of the empathic boy. As far as Crowley was concerned, there was nothing special about the human. 

Crowley had better taste in lovers and partners to hold on to. 

Still, differences aside – Crowley enjoyed his time at dinner with the good doctor. Although he himself doesn’t eat all that much he knew when something tasted good and was up to the quality Crowley preferred when he made the decision to actually eat something. It was why he accepted the latest offer for dinner when it was given, although he hasn’t accepted the invitation to some of Hannibal’s more famous dinner parties. 

Maybe one day? 

The acceptance of the latest meal came when Crowley just happened to be close by while assisting his latest companion who happened to be a hunter. It could be dangerous keeping company with a hunter given what Crowley was. But, given who this hunter was it could be forgiven. 

After all, having a Winchester boy as a lover would hold certain reputations in itself. And given that he laid claim to the eldest sibling – Dean Winchester only gave Crowley some bragging rights beyond that of the moose. After all, Dean himself was deadly and one of if not the best in the business held some weight. There was also the perk of Dean having a reputation down in Hell as being one of the late Alastair’s star students. 

So needlessly said, it only helped Crowley’s reputation. 

There was also the unspoken part of Crowley genuinely liking the boy’s company even though half the time he was beyond tempted to turn Dean over his knee because the boy was frustrating like that. 

Deeming his boy capable of handling some of the responsibilities alone, Crowley left him to his own devices. It wasn’t as though Crowley was ashamed of him or didn’t want to show him off. Because as embarrassing as it was, he did. Crowley was just well aware that what he counted as a good meal and a good place for a meal wasn’t always his boy’s preferences. Something Crowley could work on, he supposes. Or at least weasel his boy into agreeing for one night. 

This time the quality was as Crowley had expected. It always was, however, this time there was a tang of something that reminded him of human flesh. Either the man was just avoiding it going bad or the human was getting slightly sentimental in between trying to gain information. As he always did. Most times, Crowley makes him work for it. 

Most times anyway. 

Tonight, he was letting information slip without nearly as much work. Not entirely good but not without a potential reward. The information was for a price, only the good doctor doesn’t always know what price he’ll have to pay. Just one more price to pay as far as Crowley was concerned. And with a hunt in town, and Dean’s own lack of self-preservation it could be utilized. 

And one day, Crowley will come to collect.

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to know if a couple of things are wanted: 
> 
> 1\. Would you be fine with Crowley/Dean being alluded to or present within the story?  
> 2\. Alternating POV’s? 
> 
> Opinions on 1 and 2 would be lovely and appreciated.


End file.
